Hate and Changes
by Dana Mire W
Summary: Iwagakure no Sato is broken. All the once-marvelous buildings, crumbling and ruined. OcxDeidara Kind of AU, but not totally.


**Hate and Changes**

For once, I don't know what to say. My head is empty. Blank. Useless. I'm only faintly aware of the dull pain in my chest as I observe what used to be Iwagakure no Sato.

It's broken. All the marvelously carved buildings and houses have crumbled. A fire's spreading. I can hear the screams of the terrified children below, and the desperate calls of their parents. _I want to help._ So I do.

**Dragon, Monkey, Snake.**

"_Togetogeshii Kaze no Jutsu."_

I try to blow the fire out, and it works. But I feel my eyes darken as I realize that, for many families, I was too late. Sighing, I bury my head in my hands.

* * *

"You hate me, un?"

Deidara's voice is sarcastic; sadistic, even. The way he said it confused me – like he didn't really want to hear my answer, though I knew him well enough to see that that wasn't the case. His eyes betrayed him. _H_e's _hiding something._ But I would answer him truthfully, honestly, bluntly – like I always do.

"Yes, I do – to an extent. I'm just dealing with the fact that the next time I see you, it'll probably be in my Bingo book. I _hate_ that. I don't **want** to kill you," I say. My tones is unrelentingly stubborn – typical me.

His eyes (the first part I fell in love with; the peaceful blueness, showing depths of himself that no one can see) soften considerably. I'm amazed and I stare. Right now, those eyes were an epitome of emotion. Raw feeling mixed together. I was so drawn in that I almost didn't hear him speak.

"Don't say that just yet. Kimira, I'm going."

Ruthlessly, I'm shoved back into reality. _"I'm going."_ I force my brain to comprehend what he said, but I think I already know. Fuck, I'm absolutely **sure** I know what he meant. No, no, no, no, NO! I'm not dumb. I just don't want him to mean what he really means. I try to crack the tension.

"Going? No shit. Even _you_ can't live here."

I gesture to the ruined streets of Iwa below us, and I ignore the sharp pang as I remember how Iwa used to look like. Deidara shakes his head, a half-smile on his face (his face – etched into my memory forever.) Giving up, I drop my façade. I know that he knows that I know. I sigh.

"Alright, Deidara. Spit it out, so it's official."

The half-smile disappears (I feel myself miss it) and he is completely serious.

"I joined the Akatsuki," he announces. I stare at his eyes; he was speaking the truth, but something in his eyes didn't match what he just said.

Without warning, something in me snaps. Anger courses through me and I'm bewildered. A moment ago, I was calm – painfully calm. And now I was freaking out over something I already knew. Maybe hearing Deidara say it triggered whatever-this-is. Before I could ponder a bit more, I feel myself stand up and shout.

"Why the **fuck** would you join a group of moronic power-hungry bastards?!"

I'm terrified at myself. But in-the-moment me continues anyway.

"You're too good for them! They're low-lifes, scum, filth that creep around in the dark! You're nothing like them!"

His jaw is twitching. He's getting fed up. I want to stop. But I don't.

"So what if you destroyed Iwagakure?! So what if you inadverdently killed Midohara, and Chizuru?! So what if the villagers perished?! _**So what?!**_ You're not like them! At least you're so--"

In a flash, he's standing in front of me, hands on my shoulders, shaking them.

"Kimira, just shut the fuck up!"

The reasonable me pushes to the surface and I stop speaking. My mouth is hanging open. I can't believe what I just said. _I cannot believe it_. He's glaring at me - a weak one, but a glare nonetheless. He's pacing now, looking ready to explode. And then he _does_. In a weird, dangerously calm way, he exploded.

"I don't care about killing dozens of innocent people. Frankly, they weren't even that innocent. Your brother would have sacrificed you to Orochimaru. Your 'friends' forgot about you. You call that innocent?"

He spoke the words with such a venomous intensity that I would have liked it so much better if he just shouted it out. I could bear with screams, and tantrums, and, fuck, he could beat me to a pulp if he wanted to. But this..this was not the Deidara I knew.

"You've changed," I whisper. He ignored me.

"I had no problem bombing my hometown, because I don't give a **damn** about it. I am not a compassionate peace-loving sap. I'm a killer. Accept it. You don't know me as well as you think you do."

The last sentence stung me, _badly_. I wanted to say something. I wanted to tell him that I _did_ know him. _Wasn't that why we became friends in the first place?!_, I wanted to scream. My eyes were bristling with tears. He started to speak again; I prepared myself. _No crying, Kimira. NO._

"Kimira..The only reason I'm here in front of you, sharing my feelings, is because I know that by doing what I'm doing, I'm hurting you. And I'm going to apologize, and I'm going to mean it, because I love you."

The dam breaks. I fall to my knees. I cry.

And then his lips are on mine, and I'm kissing him. Desperately, brokenly,and achingly slow. But with a passion. It was our last real kiss, I guess. I'm on my back, he's on top of me - near enough to feel him, far enough to make me want him _closer_.

So I roll over, and rest my weight on him - I know he can support it. My hands press against his chest; I feel his heart beating. It calms me.

He slips his tongue into my mouth, and the calm vanishes. My body responds accordingly; adrenaline rushes through my veins. My heart is palpitating, and I wonder why.

And then I realize something my being seemed to have realized a long time ago.

It was our last kiss, our last night, our last chance. I had to make the most of it. With every fibre of my being, with each beat of my heart, I knew, I loved him. _I hope he knew that, too._

The ironic thing is, soon enough, I lose all sense of what I'm doing. It was a bright chaotic explosion of lights and colors and swirls; of gasps and moans and tears and sweat. It was beautiful, and wholly indescribable. All that registered was pleasure and pain, both in ridiculous amounts.

So, I decide, if life wanted to jerk away from my steering wheel, I'd let it. After all, there's just too much hate and change in our existence. The best thing would be to accept them. Hearts can heal. I just hope mine can, too.

* * *


End file.
